6352/Unexpected Guest

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Unexpected Guest
Date of Scene: 27 May 2021
Location: Hotel in Rome
Synopsis: A mostly asleep Nick is visited by an unexpected visitor to his hotel room. Room Service is ordered
Cast of Characters: Michael Hannigan, Terry O'Neil




Michael Hannigan has posed:
A face hits the pillow hard. "FFFF-" Exhausted from a long day of interviews and rehearsals, Nick Drago is making the most of his free time to lock himself in his room and pass out. Because tomorrow he gets to do this ALL OVER AGAIN. Yaay.

Ugh.

Now, there's no complaint to the layout of the hotel. It's pretty nice. There's a bar. There's a restaurant. The elevators work. The door is not glued together pieces. Perfectly acceptable. And you know it's a high class hotel when you don't know how to pronounce the name at all.

Ok the last one was a lie but, whatever makes it easier to sleep at night.

He feels like he's forgetting something.

Right. The lights.

"FFF-"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
The thing about Rabbit Holes is that they are a precision instrument. A successful point-to-point trip requires at least some visual information about the destination at hand, such as a photograph, video feed... sometimes illustrations will do, too.

The problem happens when the destination you're aiming for happens to be somewhere off-frame from that image such as, say, a room inside a hote distantly seen from a Google Street view photo. Then, the marin for error increases. Sometimes by a little, and sometimes by a lot.

To the good fortune of the other guests in this very luxurious hotel, the margin of error was relatively small this time. Just as Nick starts his deflation profanity, the door to the bathroom opens and out leans Vorpal, the faint glow of the Rabbit Hole illuminating him from the bathroom before it closes.

"Ah, ti spengo la luce?" He asks with a crooked grin. His Italian isn't bad, although a little too Hollywood. "You know... I should probably have checked the time zones..."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Well if there's anything good about being tired it is this. Nick's reaction time to an unexpected guest popping out of his bathroom is delayed extremely slow. (Are we sure that's a good thing?) So instead of rolling off the bed grabbing anything he can to throw at the intruder, he lingers there. Face down for a few clicks to ascertain, that nope. Not being attacked yet so... not a bad visit?

...Or it could be a repeat of Dallas again.

Eyes widening at the thought he turns to look to the one speaking Italian. He blinks. "How... do you do that going the other way?"

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal leans against the door frame and rests his hands on his hips. "Geez, you look like hell... tough day?" The Cheshire Cat might as well be called Captain Obvious for that remark. He pushes off the doorframe and approaches the bed, frowning at the question.

"The other way? Do you mean what's on the other side of a Rabbit Hole? Or is that more like a rhetoric question... such as 'how deep is the sea' or 'how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?'" He rests one foot on the bed, and leans foward, an elbow resting on his knee and his chin in his hand. "Or do you mean how is it that I get from point A to point B, and then point B to point A?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"No the timezone thing. I mean, if it's daytime here, still chance it's early morning there but when it's da-" Nick pauses, losing his train of thought. "Nevermind." Neck feeling awkward from his attempts to mimick an owl, the musician groans, pushing against the bed to flump over onto his back, repositioning his neck to look to the new guest. "-tired...long day."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh gods, beats me! Back in Wonderland there is only one timezone: Teatime, and it's always 'it'. It doesn't help that my human side has the time perception of a sleeping marmoset." Vorpal smirks and sits down at the edge of the bed, "And after a while, being able to go anywhere at a thought's notice plays havok with your sense of place, too. When Rome is 'around the corner' from Metropolis... well." He glances at Nick, and raises an eyebrow.

"I just realized what a colossal dick I must sound like, considering you have had to deal with jet lag and jet-setting all over the place."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Hmm. Thought there were birthdays and un-birthdays too." Nick murmurs. "I could probaly get you as far as Bologna but yeah...you have me beat. Actually here for a few. Rehearsals. Refamilarizing with a piece I did a few years ago... New arrangement to make up for lack of time..." He considers the appearance of the one before him. "...seems very, cat-like of you."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"That is singularly appropriate because...." he leans forward, his voice lowering in a conspiratorial way "... I happen to be a cat." Straightening up, he smiles. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be inconsiderate. I was just excited with the news- I've sent Amanda a message and I'll be meeting up with her to discuss what's going on, and we might be able to have her on our next excursion!"

He frowns and repositions himself so he is facing Drago, legs crossed on the bed. "But maybe I should wait until you're conscious and able to process this. For all I know, you're one of those people who sleep-talks and you won't remember any of this tomorrow morning..." he pauses, and then gets a mischievous look in his eyes, "which means I could order caviar and you won't be any the wiser!"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Really? I haven't noticed." As Vorpal turns to face him, the musician gives a bit of halfassed, mischevious grin. He doesn't bother pushing himself up, instead just continuing to lie there, looking up. "I've functioned more on less," he admits, "Sleep deprivation and I go a long way together."

The head rolls to the side, eyes looking towards the desk. "Leather guest booklet, front pocket has the menu." Nick provides, "Get me a burger while you're at it. That'll make Wade wonder what the hell I was on when putting the order in."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
Vorpal lets out a chuckle and slides over to grab the booklet and dial room service. When he speaks, he sounds just like Nick, his voice coming out of his lips. "Salve? Servizio in camera? Si, qui il signore Drago..."

Once the order is placed, he places the receiver back on the cradle and turns to face Mike, "Late night hamburgers can be bad for you, you know. Go to sleep late with that in your tank and you could develop some nasty reflux!" He slides up, sitting at the head of the bed next to Mike so he doesn't have to twist his head every which way to address him.

"Who's Wade? Your agent? Your accountant?" A sidelong glance and a mischievous look, "An ancient magician who is bound by a blood pact to constantly oversee the well-being of your family line in the eventual hopes that you will be able to overturn the curse that keeps him bound to this mortal plane without the sweet release of death after millennia?"

It's not as rare a thing as you'd imagine.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"I'll take my chances with the burger." Nick murmurs, bringing the scarred arm up to rest the back of his forearm against his eyes "Assuming I'm still awake when it gets here. If I'm not you can just shove it in the fridge for later. Besides I have even more of a problem now."

Feeling the bed start to dip near his head, the arm slides upwards, brushing back the hair on his forehead as blue eyes match up to the green above. "Uh, Yes, No, and No but I'm kind of curious to see what's written on that topic. Seems like a good read."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Oh, that's something that happened to the Doom Patrol when they were in Scotland. I used to keep abreast off their adventures all of the time when I was a kid. Heck, I kept newspaper clippings of them. And the Titans." The cat gets a wistful smile, "Funny how things turn out, eh? Here I am, crashing in a rockstar-dream wizard's hotel in Rome, talking about how we're going to try to find a way to rescue someone from the Doom Patrol. And I'm a member of the Titans."

His green eyes fix on the blue ones, and a twinkle of curiosity appears. "... what about you, Mister Drago? Did you ever have an inkling of any of the crazy things that would happen to you, when you were a kid? It's pretty hard not to write about this for the Planet... except that I get a whiff that you'd prefer your powers to be kept from the common knowledge. But man..." he leans foward "That whole scene with the pianos and the- that would have made for some amazing print!" he leans back. "But as someone who knows secret identites and whatnot, I know the value of discretion. None shall know."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Nick's quiet for a few moments before he purses his lips in thought. With the amount of sleep he's running on, it is a delayed process. "I don't think I had what would be considered a normal life. It seems like the only time I have any say in my life is when I'm working on music or acting."

He takes a deep breath, "But yeah... I know eventualy it will come out. But, I'd rather have a bit more time... not dealing with that."

Terry O'Neil has posed:
5r"Can't blame you. I eventually came out because I couldn't reconcile being a journalist while keeping that sort of a secret /and/ writing about capes, you know."

He makes himself comfortable, sitting on the spare pillow and looking ahead, thoughtfully. "In the end, it's best that you control when and how you're outed. Hey... tell you what."

He glances at Nick and puts a hand on his shoulder, "If you consider doing it, give me the exclusive? I can tell you everything I did, answer any questions and whatnot, and if you still feel like you want to go with it, we'll do an interview where you can out your truth. Whether you decide to do it this year or five years from now, you can count on me---- if I'm still workingg at the Planet, that is." He chuckles and slides down to stretch out on the bed, hands on his stomach.

"... oh begorra, this is the second most comfortable bed I've ever been on!" he exclaims, moving his feet slightly so he bounces once or twice very, very softly. "First one was the beds at the Themysciran Embassy, like fricking clouds! Best sleep I've ever had..." he closes his eyes, and hmms. "I wonder if I can steal one of these beds. One of them should fit through a rabbit hole!" he says. He's totally joking, right?

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Nick looks to Vorpal, slowly blinking as the journalist talks and tries to secure an exclusive. The side of his lips turn upwards as he gives a bit of a closed mouth smile. Some unspoken joke. With random hell portals in the park, becoming a literal GODfather, having to use his powers when trapped in some space cube. The odds of him actually the one that makes the story public is... likely none.

The blinks start to take longer as the visitor starts raving about the bed. There's a weak chuckle coming from the musician before it fades to silence. The head turns, lips parting ways as he falls asleep.

Looks like it is OFF TO THE fridge for that burger.

Terry O'Neil has posed:
"Out like a rock," Vorpal mutters quietly and chuckles. Sliding off the bed with the lightness of movements that only felines have in order to not disturb the musician, he stretches for a second, until there is a knock at the door.

Then, he looks exactly like Nick as he opens the door and accepts the food, powers of illusion are a boy's best friend after all.

That burger, indeed, gets shunted to the fridge, and he takes his time to enjoy the caviar at the table before leaving the ddishes outside, like a good guest should.

Glancing back at Mike, he walks over to the bed and, with a few tugs, pulls the covers over him and then scrawls something on the nightstand's writing pad:

"Burger in the fridge! In case you were sleetalking- Amanda might be in on the Quest. Call me and we'll hash out the plot. -V"

He pauses. Then adds.

"P.S- The caviar was *mwah!"

He frowns. And adds.

"P.P.S: That's supposed to be a french chef kiss, but you can't attach GIFs to paper."

He pauses, and adds.

"P.P.P.S: Okay, maybe I could, but it'd be freaky. Buona Sera!"

And then, he steps out through the Rabbit Hole, destination: New York. He's got a sorceress to see about a dream adventure.